


things are going to be okay

by mizkymoth



Series: Transmasc! Malcolm Bright [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, OOC, POV Male Character, Trans Character, Trans Malcolm Bright, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizkymoth/pseuds/mizkymoth
Summary: Transmasc!Malcolm Bright and all of the struggles that come with accepting that part of himself.
Series: Transmasc! Malcolm Bright [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943287
Kudos: 3





	things are going to be okay

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: I’m only on Episode 7 at the moment so it’ll probably be a bit OOC. It’s pretty canon-divergent anyways though- I’m sorry for any inaccuracies.

“Hey kid, you okay?” Gil asked, with a certain sound to his voice which made Malcolm’s heart twist. He was not okay. He was far from being okay. He really thought that this day would go by without any problems. That is, if he ignored his insomnia getting worse with each day but that is a problem he would get into at another time. No, the thing making Malcolm’s brain run at high speed and sending hundreds of thoughts through his head right now was vastly different from his sleeping problems. The team just found out that he is trans. Gil knew about it, of course, he was like a father for him and the presence in his childhood made it impossible for him not to notice that Malcolm was, well, turning into a fine young man before his eyes. Malcolm knew Gil didn’t really mind it, however he respected Malcolm’s wishes to stay stealth in his new “job” at the NYPD. He always supported his choices in this matter. Maybe it was also because he didn’t quite understand it himself. He just knew that Malcolm was less miserable, and that transitioning was for his own good.

“Malcolm. What’s wrong?” Gil asked again, this time with more power behind his statement. Malcolm managed to get himself out of his headspace but still couldn’t muster up the courage to speak his mind. He was scared. He was scared of the judgement that he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. He felt small. He felt helpless. He would reflect on this later in one of the countless sleepless nights he will have and he will come to the realization that, even though he was so scared and anxious in this moment, it was ultimately the best thing to happen to him. That’s probably also how he finally managed to take a deep breath and speak, albeit with a shaky and squeaky voice. “Yes, I am transgender. It’s when your assigned gender at birth does not match your own gender identity. I’ve known for years now and I have not told anyone because I did not want it to cause any problems, since I already pass as male. I’m sorry for hiding this.” He added a small “Are you mad at me?” at the end, although he was not sure if anyone even heard it.

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. Honestly, I don’t really care, I’d rather solve this case first.” Dani replied nonchalantly. “Wha- Okay, yes, sure.” Malcolm breathed out and it was visible to everyone how relieved he was. He looked at JT for support as well, he however just looked at Malcolm intensely, with a face not even the profiler could identify properly. He decided to not worry about it right now, as he was sure that Gil and, supposedly even Dani would have his back if anything went wrong.

The day passed quickly, and Malcolm was sort of content with how well he handled the situation and, obviously he was happy about having solved another case. Sleeping came to him surprisingly easy for his problems. Maybe things were going to be okay.

JT walked towards him first thing the next morning, before he could even step into the building. Malcolm was confused and a bit scared, even if he didn’t admit it directly. Maybe JT did not handle it all that well after all? He stuffed his shaking hand inside of his suit pockets and smiled up at the bigger man. “Hey big guy, what are you this motivated for? Something interesting happen?” JT didn’t reply and just took opened his palm to show Malcolm what he had for him. It was a necklace with the trans pride flag. Malcolm was even more confused now, but he decided to appreciate the gesture and took the necklace. JT quickly turned around and walked away before any further words could be spoken. It left Malcolm flustered and content with the support he received. He hasn’t felt this happy and loved in a while, even if the gesture was just a small thing to anyone who saw it. It wasn’t just that for him though. It was an act of support, an act of respect and he felt as if he finally found people that took him for who he was, even with all of his issues and peculiarity. For the first time in forever he felt as if he belonged. Not just as a trans man but as a “normal” person. He had friends. No. He had family. And he didn’t want to lose them, whatever that took.

Apparently, not losing them proved itself harder than Malcolm expected. The others knew that he was weird, and they probably guessed that he wasn’t the best with friendships or family dynamics either. However, they didn’t expect how hard it was for him to be open about things that bothered him. I didn’t happen scarcely that, when asked about something personal, he tried to brush it off or simply ignored the question. He was annoyed with himself about it, but he truly did not know how to do anything else. Dani and even JT offered many times that he should talk to them and that it really, honestly is okay that he is not okay, but he just couldn’t trust them. No. Not yet. He has to solve the case first. Or he has to go home to sleep. Or, or, or… He always found an excuse, even if, deep down, he knew that no one bought it. Malcolm just was not ready. Or he did not want to be ready.

He didn’t want to open up until he almost passed out on top of a corpse, which, of course, made Edrisa shriek and jump away from him. Luckily, Dani caught him before anything happened, but he was still shaken up from it. “How long has it been since you slept again, Bright?” She asked, not wanting to show her concern, but Malcolm could see it in the way she held herself. Her posture and her facial expression gave everything away. He made a mental remark to not profile her like this again, as he knew that she did not like it. “Huh? Oh. I don’t know, a few days?” He tried to smile, but everyone could see how insincere the look on his face was. “If a few days includes a week, then yeah, I believe you. You need to talk to us, Bright.” She said, with determination in her voice. There was something else Malcolm couldn’t quite understand. Was she exhausted? Has he finally become too much for them to handle? This always happened. He chuckled unwillingly, which only made Dani look at him with a stern look. “Ah, well, it does not really matter too much. We should solve th-“ Dani interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence. “You can’t use this excuse every time. You need a break, we both know this. You look like shit. Please, take care of yourself for once.” Malcolm sighed. He knew this day would come, he just hoped it wouldn’t happen in the middle of an interesting case. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. After this profile I’ll take a break.” He replied with a smile. Dani looked sad about it but quickly regained her neutral façade. She simply said “Fine.” And that was it for a few days.

“Malcolm, come to my office please. It’s important.” Gil said as he passed the younger man. Malcolm was disappointed. He thought he convinced the others that he took a break. Of course, he still worked. Undercover, seemingly without anyone noticing it. Maybe being sleep-deprived led to him being careless, not aware enough of his surroundings. He dragged himself to the office. The closing door made him jump, even though he didn’t even pull it that hard. It’s all too much. “Sit down. We need to have a talk.” Gil sounded like a dad when he said this. It reminded Malcolm of his childhood. Gil always used this voice when he got in trouble with the other kids at his school. He knew that Gil’s tone was to be taken seriously, but he didn’t feel scared. Nothing bad could happen to him. Hopefully. “Malcolm, I have decided to suspend you from work for 2 weeks. You need a break. You haven’t slept in god-knows-when and it’s even impeding on your ability to work. It’s enough. You can come back after you have rested. This is an order.” Malcolm’s heart dropped. “You can’t be serious. You know that I need this job to survive!” “We will still pay you.” Gil said calmly. “It’s not about the payment! I need it to calm myself down! I need it for my mental health! You can’t take this away from me!” He shouted. “I can and I will. I gave you this job and I’ll be glad to do whatever it takes to make you better, even if it goes against your own will. I will not discuss this any further. Go home, kid.” Gil said, trying very hard not to shout as well. Malcolm felt his eyes burning as tears slowly made their way into the corners. He did not want to cry. Not now. “Okay.” He sighed. He wiped his eyes and turned away, walking towards the door. Just as he grabbed the door handle to leave, Gil spoke up again. “I’m sorry, Malcolm, but this is for your own best.” Malcolm just lowered his head. His eyes welled up with tears again, which made him slam the door closed behind him and leave the precinct as fast as possible. He just wanted to go home now. Nothing mattered anymore. He didn’t notice JT’s and Dani’s worried glances as he rushed past them.

Malcolm was greeted by happy cheeping as soon as he closed his door, however even his beloved parakeet couldn’t manage to cheer him up this time. He slumped down on his couch, but got up a few seconds later to get a glass of whiskey. Of course, this wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but he seriously did not know what to do with himself and somehow, alcohol was the first thing that came to mind. He quickly emptied the glass before he could think twice about it. He tried to get up another time to lie down in bed but his body decided that staying down was the best way to remain. His head was spinning and he felt dizzy as he slowly drifted off to a restless sleep. He was quickly shaken awake by two strong hands gripping on either side of his torso. Someone was yelling at him but he couldn’t quite get out of the dream – or nightmare – yet. So he tried to remain in this world for a little longer, even if it hurt him. The other person had way more power than him though, so he was soon forcibly ripped out of his sleep. “Bright! Bright, wake up! Wake up, damnit!” Someone shouted in his face. Malcolm squinted his eyes together to shield himself against the overwhelming noises seemingly coming from everywhere. Suddenly he felt a sharp, burning pain in his left cheek. He threw open his eyes to see JT’s scared and angry face looking back at him. He looked worried as well. “What’s going on? What happened?” He whispered, the alcohol unfortunately taking a turn on his vocal abilities. “You had like a fuckin’ seizure in your sleep! What did you take? DO I HAVE TO TAKE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL, BRIGHT?!” “What? I- Uhhh. No, I- I just- I just drank some Whiskey is all… I’m fine… I’m fine…” Malcolm hated how the alcohol slurred his speech, he wanted to be articulate. He cursed himself for drinking. It never ended well. It is a weird constant in his life, he thought. It was strangely comforting, knowing that things inevitably went well. Before he could entertain this self-deprecating train of thought any further, JT brought him back into the famous “land-of-the-living” again. “Don’t you pass out on me, Bright. Jesus.” His tone was softer now but he still looked at Malcolm with this worried-but-disappointed look. “I’m- sorry. You didn’t have to come. I’m- I’m fine. I’m fine. Please, just go back to- to- to working, okay? I’m fine.” He tried his best to sound clear and level-headed but the alcohol still hit him hard, which just frustrated him at this point. JT sighed. He didn’t want to leave Malcolm alone. But he also wanted to respect his boundaries, so he decided to leave, albeit to come back later. “Alright. I don’t believe you but fine. I’ll be back in a few hours with somethin’ to eat so you can get your annoying energy back up. Don’t die on me in the meantime.” He spat out, sounding harsher than he intended to. “Please.” JT added, as he left the apartment. Malcolm heard it, of course. And that was the last thing it took for his eyes to finally overflow with tears. He was so screwed.

Waking up the next morning was, honestly, horrible. He couldn’t even get out of bed, simply because he felt that there was just no reason to do so, as he did not have any work to do. His mother was busy with her charity work, Ainsley was, obviously, still working and- No. Malcolm couldn’t even think of talking to his father. He would not stoop that low. Talking to Dr. Whitly was the absolute last resort. Surviving 2 weeks can not be that hard after all. He just has to find something else to occupy his mind with.

Apparently, 2 weeks can be a very long time, if your brain generally runs on high speed and needs constant stimulation to function properly. Malcolm found himself wondering if it would be smart to research the old “Surgeon” cases. If he could get a hold on the material, that was. He knew for sure that Gil wouldn’t let him do it. Actually- someone might have it. He really had to strengthen the family bond. It can surely be useful sometimes. He had to call his sister. Now. Or he’ll go crazy. “Hey Ains.” He said, as if it was just friendly small talk without an ulterior motive. “Hey Malcolm. What do you want? I’m kind of busy with work.” She replied, sounding as if she was busy on a set or inside of a subway maybe? He envied her busy life sometimes. “Well, I wanted to ask if you had access to the files for Dad’s uhh-“ “Murders? No, I don’t. The NYPD won’t give them to me. You need to stop thinking about him. Do it for me. And for Mom.” And with that, she simply hung up. Malcolm was baffled. He had to really find something else to fill his day.

As another day passed without Malcolm being productive, he decided to go out into the city for once. He needed another suit anyways and he was sure that someone would be proud of him for leaving his apartment for once. Of course, he didn’t know where to go or where to find anything because he was always supplied with the best clothes, courtesy of his mother. He felt useless, for some reason. Malcolm wanted to be independent. Not only from his mother but from his father as well. He didn’t want them controlling his thinking like this. On a whim, he went into the first building he saw on the side of the street, not noticing that it was in fact a gay bar, which was, of course, open at this ungodly hour. Malcolm hadn’t thought that in the middle of the night, clothing stores won’t be open. His mind was wandering to his father again and he desperately tried to get rid of the thought. He absentmindedly sat down at the bar and only saw what happened as the bartender kept snapping his fingers in Malcolm’s face. “What do you want to order? I don’t have all day, you know.” He shouted over the music which played at an uncomfortably high volume. Malcolm was more than confused and he wanted to leave. This wasn’t the right place for him. He wasn’t gay, he knew that much. Yeah, he was trans, but he was still a straight man. “Oh, uhh- I think I’m wrong here, sorry. I have to go, really, I have to go. Sorry.” He replied hesitantly as he rushed out the door. Wrong place, wrong place. He was horribly overstimulated. Too loud, too much, too much, too much. Malcolm didn’t know why he went in there. It was such a bad idea. He hated it. He hated himself for it. He had to get away. Get home. Home is safe. He had to get home.

He didn’t know how he got home. This was the thing he hated most. Missing memories. Forgetting. He hated forgetting important things. What if something bad had happened yesterday? WHAT EVEN HAPPENED YESTERDAY?! He started freaking out again. This wasn’t good. Luckily his phone started vibrating on his counter which made him jump but also broke him free from what could’ve turned into a full-blown panic attack. He stared at the phone for what felt like hours before he could muster up the courage to actually look at it. Malcolm was surprised. No countless missed calls this time, just a solitary message from an unknown number. It read “Hey stranger, you freaked out by the bar. I called a taxi for you. Hope you got home safely.” Malcolm was stunned. At least he kind of knew what happened now. None of his things seemed to be damaged or gone, which relieved him. There were some not as bad people overall. He had the urge to text the mystery number back, but he knew that it probably wasn’t a good idea. Malcolm decided to leave it at that.

Only three days left, he said to himself. Out loud, which he barely noticed at this point. He has resorted to speaking to himself as a way of coping with the solitude. It’s really taking a toll on him. Three days. Three days.

The days left turned into a mantra he would constantly repeat whenever he couldn’t bear to stand the boredom and missing stimulation anymore. He needed to get back to work. He couldn’t sleep either because, again, he had nothing to do. He was simply BORED. Malcolm felt like a child again. Having seemingly endless summer holidays without anyone to spend his time and energy with. His childhood saddened him. He didn’t like thinking about it. Obviously there was the whole serial-killer for a dad thing, but his gender dysphoria also ruined the last sliver of safety left after his father got taken away. Malcolm never fit in with his peers, he was mostly fine with it. But when he got to high school, he actually wanted to have friends for once. Like-minded people to share his thoughts with. But he came out before the summer holiday and the testosterone already had his effects, which, by appearance made him blend into all of the other pubescent boys in his class. But to them, he wasn’t just another boy. No, he was the girl that suddenly intruded in their spaces. He was the “he-she”, the “lady-boy”, the “tranny”. He’s heard it all before he was a sophomore. Malcolm was never truly accepted but he could arrange himself with the girls. Now no one was left for him. The boys didn’t want him and the girls were freaked out, because, well, he looked like any other boy. He was truly alone, once again. And, for some reason, this was exactly the way Malcolm felt right now. Alone. Left out. An outsider. And there was nothing he could do to help it.

It was Sunday. Finally. Just one day left. He just had to get through this day. Then he made it. He’s going to be okay. He hadn’t slept at all. He’s going to be okay. He hasn’t eaten in 2 days. He’s going to be okay. His thoughts are constantly circling his father. He’s going to be okay. The girl in the box. He’s going to be okay. Ainsley. He’s going to be okay. Mom. He’s going to be okay. Dad. He’s going to be okay. JT. He’s going to be okay. Gil. He’s going to be okay. Dani. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.

He’s going to be okay.

He’s going to be okay.

**He’s going to be okay.**

“You still look like shit.”


End file.
